Back To The Past
by Willum
Summary: NOW COMPLETE! Seventeen years later, the Doc shows up seeking Marty's help, and the two are once again in a time-spanning adventure...
1. Friends Out Of Time

**__**

Back To The Past

Part One: Friends Out Of Time

Marty stood at the railing of his deck, looking out over the gathering of his friends, longing for a visit from the one man that he would always consider his best friend. Every year, when his birthday rolled around, Marty would hope that maybe, just maybe, this time Doc would stop by to see him. But every year he just ended up building himself up for a disappointment, Doc apparently too busy exploring the reaches of time and space.

When he was feeling particularly depressed, Marty would wish that he had joined Doc that day, going only God knows where, seeing on God knows what.

Seventeen years of missing the best friend he had ever add.

Sometimes Marty wondered if he was ever going to get over his feeling of loss…of abandonment…of longing for a life less boring.

That's what his life had become, boring. At least he was honest enough with himself to admit that that was the real problem. His life had become so…normal…after the Doc's departure, that Marty wanted to scream some times. If it wasn't for Jennifer, and the kids, Marty didn't think he'd be able to stand it at all.

Jennifer.

Just the thought of her still filled him with a sense of warmness, a love that was still as strong today as it had been eighteen years ago, and he knew that she was his anchor to this world. She was so compassionate, so understanding, that he couldn't help but marvel at how she put up with his bouts of depression every year at this time.

Clint and Jessica were just as important a part of his world as their mother, and he was so glad that, after his little trip to the future, that he had decided on changing their names. The broken and depressed Marty of the "other" time-line might have felt the need to name his son a Junior, but the semi-confident Marty of the current time-line felt no sense of insecurity about his legacy carrying on.

Martin McFly Junior was a name that the world had not needed.

"Hey, Lover," came Jennifer's soft voice, bringing him out of his melancholy. "Missing him again, aren't you?"

"You know me too well," he said, turning around to face her with a smile. "Is it me, or do you manage to gather more people for these parties every year?"

"It's your fault," she teased, wrapping her arms about his waist and leaning in to kiss him. "You're too damn nice. You just keep making friends."

"Well, at this rate, we're going to need a bigger yard by my fortieth."

Smirking and shaking her head, Jennifer leaned in and kissed her husband deeply.

"Hey, McFly!" called a deep voice, causing the two to break from their kiss and look towards the tall, elderly man coming through the gate to the back yard. "Where's the beef?"

Biff Tannen broke into laughter over his joke, drawing groans from those that had heard him, most of them wondering if the man was ever going to stop living in the eighties.

"Hey, Biff, Jean," greeted Marty, welcoming his "Dad's" semi-friend, and his current wife.

"Better hide the good beer," whispered Jennifer.

"Why'd you invite him?" asked Marty, in a lowered voice.

"You're parents insisted. If it wasn't for Biff, then they never would have met, and they never would have…"

"Fallen in love," finished Marty, rolling his eyes. "You know, maybe I should tell them the truth."

"Yeah," chided Jennifer. "Maybe your dad could turn it into his next best seller. 'My Son, The Time Traveling Match Maker'."

What ever reply Marty would have made, he had to choke it down as Biff and Jean finally reached them, the elder Tannen bobbing his head and moving his shoulders as if he was listening to some disco beat that only he could hear.

"So, McFly, where's your old man? Him and your mom still getting along?"

"Like a couple of teenagers, Biff," smarted Marty. "They should be here soon. Why don't you two go a head and mingle, there's plenty of hot dogs and burgers."

"What? No steaks? I thought you were a big wig over at that new Jap company."

"Subtle as ever," griped Jean, in a voice louder than necessary. "Don't pay him no mind, Marty. He's just upset cause he spilled some of his beer swerving around a humungous pot hole."

"I don't know why I put up with you, woman," growled Biff, his voice growing as loud as hers'.

"Why don't I show you were you can get a fresh drink, Biff," offered Jennifer, defusing the potential argument.

**_That's my Babe,_** thought Marty, smiling to himself as Jennifer led the Tannens towards the keg being watched over by his brother, Dave.

"I hope it ain't light," grumbled Biff, leading Jean along behind Jennifer.

"I guess this really isn't a bad life," said Marty, to himself. "Maybe boring's better than I give it credit for."

Marty no sooner finished his musing and a sudden, powerful wind blew through his back yard, knocking tables, favors, and party-goers over. The blast of air was followed by a flash of blue light, brilliant as a bolt of lightening, and accompanied by a thunderous boom that shook everyone to the bone.

In the split second before he was slammed back against the house, Marty recognized the atmospheric disturbance for what it was: the arrival of a time machine. The realization did him little good as he smacked hard against the brick of the house, his vision exploding with stars as his head cracked against the red material, his senses overwhelmed by the sequential booms and flashes.

Marty was dimly aware of his family and friends screaming, trying to flee the sudden maelstrom in a blind panic, some of them stumbling around numbly from the affects of the time displacement. His vision blurring in and out, sounds seeming distantly muffled, Marty stared in awe at the massive, black locomotive that appeared in the air over his backyard, hovering just like a locomotive shouldn't be able to.

"Doc?" mumbled Marty, watching dazedly as the locomotive settled to the ground, causing the few remaining guests to flee in terror.

The locomotive came to a reverberating landing, smashing several wooden picnic tables in the progress, steam billowing from it in thick clouds that obscured Marty's blurred vision of Jennifer groggily rising from the ground.

The side doors of the locomotive opened, the ever-familiar face of Doctor Emmett Brown materializing from within, his wild, white hair, and wide, crazed-looking eyes seeming not to have changed a bit in the last eighteen years.

**_"That Doc Brown is trouble,"_** echoed Strickland's voice in Marty's memories.

Doc Brown raced down the short stairs of the locomotive's exit door, nearly stumbling to the ground in his haste, and he bolted straight for Marty, leaping over fallen lawn furniture. Racing up the steps of the deck, Doc Brown stooped down over Marty and grabbed him by the shoulders, shaking him with excited panic.

"Marty. Marty!" cried Doc Brown, his voice nearly hysterical. "You have to help me, Marty. He has them! You have to help me save them!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Doc," Marty yelled, his ears still ringing. "I don't see you for eighteen years, and you…you…you blast into my birthday party to yell that he has them? Them who? He who?"

"Clara and the kids, Marty!" yelled Doc. "He has them!"

"Who has them, Doc?"

Doc Brown stood and pointed excitedly at the man groggily rising from under the fallen beer keg.

"Biff, Marty. Biff's kidnapped them!"

"Whoa, Doc, this is…heavy?" muttered Marty, suddenly feeling the strangest sense of Deja'vu.

"There's no one else I can go to, Marty," rambled Doc Brown, helping Marty to his feet. "You have to come with me."

"Where, Doc?"

"Back to the past!"

**__**

To Be Continued…

A/N: I've been wanting to write a BTTF fic for a long time, and with the movies coming out on DVD soon (finally), I've been swept up with a bit of nostalgia. I'm not quite sure where this story is heading (or how soon it will be finished), but if enough people are interested, then I'll definitely make an effort to continue/finish it (unlike many of the BTTF stories here--jab at Theed to continue her marvelous story). So be sure to let me know if you want more or not.


	2. Riding The Train To Temporal Oblivion

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Back To The Past

Part Two: Riding The Train To Temporal Oblivion

"Biff has your family?" stammered Marty, looking over at the disoriented Biff, stumbling across the decimated back yard. "What the hell's he doing with your family, Doc? I mean, he barely knows you."

Marty wasn't sure, but it seemed like the ringing in his ears was finally fading away, only to be replaced by a dull, rumbling sound.

"There isn't time to explain now, Marty," stressed Doc Brown, trying to drag Marty down off of the deck. "I'm barely ahead of the temporal wave, and things are going to be changing any second!"

The ringing was definitely gone, but the rumbling persisted, reverberating through his head like the roar of a tidal wave rolling towards the beach.

"Temporal wave? Doc, what's going on?" pleaded Marty, grudgingly letting the Doc pull him towards the train.

The rumbling was growing louder, almost sounding like distant thunder now, and Marty shook his head, trying to free his senses from the noise.

"I'll explain all, once we're safely in the time stream. Until then, every moment we linger here we risk being altered with the time-line."

The thunder was rolling now, one continuous booming sound on top of another, and Marty knew that the sound was not coming from inside of his head--it was all around him.

"What's that noise?" asked Marty.

Doc Brown suddenly looked up, seeming startled, appearing as if he was noticing the sound for the first time. His mouth fell open in a gasp and he looked to Marty with eyes wide, his face contorted in panic.

"It's here!" shouted the Doc, forcibly grabbing Marty and pushing him the last few steps to the train. "We have to go! Now!"

Memories of their friendship flashing through his mind, Marty knew that he had no other choice but to trust Doc Brown. They had both gone through time, and personal hells, to help each other, and there was no way that he could tell the Doc no. Not this time. Not ever. Determined to do what ever he could to help, Marty clamored up the steps of the locomotive.

"You're not going anywhere, Old Man," growled Biff, grabbing a hold of Doc Brown and spinning him around.

The wind began whipping through the back yard, blowing with a ferocity reminiscent of the locomotive's arrival, and the air was taking on a blue, sparkly glow.

"I knew you'd come back for it one day!" screamed Biff, shaking Doc Brown by his shirt collar. "Well, it's mine now, and you can't take it from me!"

"You have no idea what you've done," yelled Doc Brown, bringing his fists up to break Biff's grip.

"I haven't done anything. Not yet anyways," countered Biff, staggering back from the Doc's strike.

Doc Brown wasn't quite as old as he appeared to be, and the last eighteen years hadn't been all that gentle to Biff. If it came down to a knock down, drag out fight, then the odds favored the Doc. Not by much, but they favored him.

"You already have," snarled Doc Brown. 

"Oh, my, God," said Marty, standing in the entranceway of the locomotive.

The world was vanishing in a wave of blue energy that was sweeping ever closer to them, the wall encroaching from every direction that he looked in. Buildings, houses, trees, land, everything was being swallowed up by the light, which was rumbling towards them like some obscene, gigantic wave.

Marty had a sinking feeling in his stomach that he was looking at Doc Brown's temporal wave.

"Doc! Look!" shouted Marty, pointing to the vanishing horizon.

"Great Scott," exclaimed Doc Brown.

"What the hell is that?" demanded Biff, trying to reestablish his hold on the Doc. "What have you done to us, Old Man?"

"You did this, Biff," the Doc said, shouting to be heard over the roar of the wind. "You did this to us all!"

"Bull. I'm gonna…"

Biff never finished his sentence, Marty's foot lashing out and catching him in the chin, snapping the man's head back. Biff dropped to his knees, groaning, shaking his head to try and clear the stars that were floating before his eyes.

"Thank you, Marty," said the Doc, taking Marty's hand and climbing up into locomotive.

Marty practically danced around the small confines of the engine cab, moving as fast as he could to stay out of Doc Brown's way as the scientist darted back and forth, adjusting numerous controls. Though many of the controls were completely unrecognizable to him, Marty was able to identify the Flux Capacitor, easily twice as large as the one that had been in the DeLorean. To the front of the compartment was the Destination Panel, also much larger (and more sturdy looking) than the one he was experienced with, and with a much longer display screen.

Apparently the Doc had been traveling through millions of years.

The engine shuddered briefly as it rose from the ground, the two men stumbling about for a second before getting their footing, and the Doc manipulated the controls with experienced ease. Swinging the locomotive around to line up their run for time jumping, Doc Brown flashed a reassuring smile at Marty.

"Don't worry. Once we're in the time-stream, we'll have time to talk about what's gone wrong."

"I trust you, Doc," said Marty, smiling, clapping a hand on Doc Brown's shoulder.

"Thank you, Marty," replied Doc Brown, smiling sadly. "I knew I could count on you. Better brace yourself for departure."

Grabbing a hold of hand rail on the side of the wall, Marty nodded to the Doc that he was ready, and he glanced at the Destination Panel to see what time they were traveling to.

"October seventeenth, eighty-five?" mouthed Marty, thinking that there was something eerily familiar about the date.

Any further pondering of the date was forgotten as the locomotive rocketed forward, Marty having to wrap his second hand around the hold as he fought to remain standing against the g-forces.

"Doooooooooooooocccccccccc," screamed Marty, watching in horror as they shot directly towards the temporal wave.

The locomotive performed a one-eighty that Marty would have sworn that it never could have, and suddenly it was racing from the temporal wave, rapidly nearing the eighty-eight mile per hour mark.

Between the roar of the locomotive and the roar of the temporal wave, the two men barely heard the thunderous, triple booms of their breaking of the time barrier.

They certainly did not hear the screams coming from outside of the locomotive. The screams of Biff as he hung onto the rear of the craft, his heart racing as they were swallowed up by the time stream, vanishing to some other when.

**__**

To Be Continued…


	3. Stealing The Past

**__**

Back To The Past

Part Three: Stealing The Past

"Uh, Doc, where are we?" asked Marty as he stared out the windows of the locomotive, marveling at the blue energy swirling about them. "Why haven't we, uh, arrived yet?"

"Clara, and I, have made a lot of discoveries in the last year, Marty," answered the Doc, not answering Marty's question at all.

"It's only been a year for you! Doc, why? Well, I know why, what I mean is, why did you wait so long to come back?"

"When I found out what had happened, the time-line was already beginning to alter. My only chance was to out distance the temporal wave at some point in the future."

"Okay, I think I understand that. I don't know why, but I do. That still doesn't tell me where we are."

"We're **_in_** the time-stream," revealed the Doc, looking at Marty as if he expected some startling reaction.

"You've lost me now, Doc. Shouldn't we have gone from one time to another?"

"We are, Marty. We are," exclaimed Doc Brown, turning to check over one of the multiple control panels. "We're just taking a little longer to do it than what you're used to."

"Used to? Doc, it's been eighteen years! I'm not used to any of this."

Marty felt a tinge of guilt as he saw the Doc's shoulders slump, the man appearing to shrink a little at Marty's berating. When he turned around, he looked at Marty with eyes that were both sad and tired.

Extremely tired.

"I'm sorry, Marty," said the Doc, his voice almost hushed. "I some times forget about those passing normally through time. Look at you, you're all grown up now."

"Yeah, I am grown up, Doc. Jennifer and I are married, we've got two kids. A house. A dog."

"Are you happy, Marty?"

"You know, Doc, I kept asking myself that same question. I guess I didn't realize it, but yeah, I'm happy."

"Then we've both got something worth fighting for, Marty," said the Doc, his voice returning to normal. "Biff's stolen my family, and your future."

"What happened?"

Doc pressed a button on a side panel, and parts of the floor began to bubble, rising up liquid-like, shifting into the form of two chairs. Doc dropped down into one of the chairs and motioned for Marty to take the other.

"Another product of the future," informed the Doc. "Twenty-one ten, if I remember right."

"Cool," said Marty, surprised to find the chair extremely comfortable.

"I would hazard the thought that this is all my fault," started the Doc, beginning his story of how things had gone wrong. "I had assumed that the secret of time travel would be sealed with the destruction of the DeLorean, but I was wrong."

"Biff stole your plans?"

"No, nothing so mundane. He saw your return from eighteen eighty-five, on the railroad tracks. He saw the destruction of the DeLorean, and he saw my return to say good bye. He saw it all."

"I don't understand, Doc. So he saw it, so what?"

"We left all of the pieces there, Marty. Every bit of metal, every nut and bolt, every computer chip. Everything that was the DeLorean, and the Flux Capacitor."

Marty's mouth dropped open as he realized what the Doc was saying.

"Biff has spent the last eighteen years rebuilding it," confirmed Doc Brown, nodding solemnly.

"But it was destroyed," argued Marty. "Completely destroyed. How could…. I mean…. I didn't know he was _that_ good with cars."

"He wasn't. Or, at least he wouldn't have been, if we hadn't gone back to nineteen fifty-five a second time."

"Nineteen fifty-five? What did we do in nineteen fifty-five?"

"When Biff wrecked his car for the second time, he didn't have the money to get it fixed, he had to do it himself. That's when he got interested in working on cars."

"Damn, Doc. It seems that no matter what we do, we always cause something else to happen."

"I know, Marty, I know. Anyhow, two weeks from your time, Biff takes the rebuilt DeLorean on a test drive into the future. When he realizes what it does, he goes back and it gives it to his younger self."

"His younger self?" wondered Marty. "But, Doc, he was at my party."

"The temporal wave hadn't caught up with your existence yet. I have no idea what your time, or the rest of the future, even looks like now. Not since young Biff's crime spree."

"Crime spree? Come on, Doc. I know Biff's and asshole, but a criminal?"

"Are you forgetting Mad Dog?" prodded Doc Brown. "The Biff of our alternate nineteen eighty-five killed your father, and tried to kill you. And what about Griff?"

"Point made, Doc," conceded Marty, nodding.

"The Tannen line is tainted, Marty. There can be no other explanation."

"I get it, Doc, I get it. So Biff rebuilt the DeLorean, went back in time, gave it to his younger self, who went on some sort of a crime spree…." enticed Marty, wanting the Doc to finish his story.

"Crime spree, right," picked up Doc Brown. "Young Biff went through time, stealing priceless works of art, before they became priceless! I don't know how he figured it out, but he had the foresight to hide the objects where he could recover them in his normal time."

"I don't understand, Doc. Why didn't he just bring them back with him?"

"Because they wouldn't have aged, Marty. How can you sell the portrait of the Mona Lisa when it proves to be only a year old? He had to let them age, to keep their value."

"I don't think Biff's that smart, Doc," chided Marty.

"He rebuilt the DeLorean, didn't he? Besides, it doesn't matter. What's done is done, unless we see that it's never done."

"I'm getting a headache here, Doc," groaned Marty, rubbing his temples.

"When I tried to confront Biff, back in ninety fifty-five, his older self showed up, with his goon squad, and kidnapped Clara and the kids. His men were supposed to abandon me in the medieval period and return with the locomotive, but it seems that no matter what time-line we're in, those guys aren't too smart."

"You left his boys in medieval times?"

"Don't worry, they don't know enough to be burned as witches. Besides, if my plan works, then they'll never have gone back."

"What is the plan, Doc?"

"We're going back to the past, to nineteen eighty-five, and steal the wreckage of the DeLorean back from Biff. We'll be arriving at night, and we'll hide the train in the high school stadium."

"Sounds easy enough."

"We have to be extremely careful, Marty. You said yourself that you've been happy all these years. We can't risk you meeting your past self and somehow changing that."

"Okay, Doc," agreed Marty.

"We'll be dropping from the time stream in…" he looked over to a small chronometer built into the front panel, "…one minute."

Despite the warmth of the compartment, Biff couldn't stop shivering, his body trembling as if he was racked with spasms. He had thought he was going to die as they slipped into the time-stream, the same time-stream that he had hoped to travel through in a couple weeks, and he probably would have if his hand hadn't brushed across the latch of a storage compartment on the side of train.

It had taken all of his strength, fighting against the temporal forces buffeting him, but Biff had managed to get the compartment door open and cram himself into it, before it was too late.

There was a second door, on the inside of the compartment, which opened into something resembling an engine room. Biff had thought about slipping into the interior of the train, but he knew that he was in no shape to confront Doc Brown or Marty should they discover him. No, the safest thing to do was to remain in the cramped storage compartment, waiting for them to arrive wherever it was that they were going.

He just hoped it was someplace warm.

**__**

To Be Continued…


	4. Out Of Sync

**__**

Back To The Past

Part Four: Out Of Sync

Though his son was, or would eventually be, only five, Marty had hoped that one day he would be visiting the Hill Valley Stadium to watch him play on the football team. He had never dreamed that, at the age of thirty-six, he would be standing in the middle of the football field at midnight, helping the Doc get ready for their little act of counter-temporal-espionage.

"Be very careful with these, Marty," instructed the Doc, handing Marty two round, silver balls.

"Hand grenades?" asked Marty, not really thinking that that was what they were. What they were fighting for was certainly important, but he didn't actually believe the Doc would be that aggressive about it.

"I call them 'time bombs'," replied Doc Brown, smiling proudly. He handed Marty a golden wrist watch, and continued with "as long as you're wearing this, you won't be affected by them."

"Uh, what exactly do they do, Doc?" wondered Marty, now feeling a little nervous handling the "time bombs".

"Exactly what their name implies, Marty. They blow up time!"

Marty looked at the Doc in disbelief.

"They contain a minute amount of pure temporal energy. When you thrown one down hard enough to break it, that energy negates the immediate flow of temporal energy."

"English, Doc. English."

"They stop time. Oh, it's not for long, about one to two minutes, and the affects are limited to about a ten yards, but they are very effective."

"And the watch keeps you safe when you use them?" asked Marty.

"Exactly."

"Cool."

"Yes, they are. I used one to escape from Biff's men. If I had only been wearing one of the watches when Biff first showed up, then we wouldn't be here right now."

Doc Brown lowered the exit ramp and motioned for Marty to step outside of the locomotive.

"I'll join you in a minute, Marty. I have to set the security system."

"What, you got a train alarm?" joked Marty as he climbed down the stairs to soft grass of the football field.

"Step back and watch," directed the Doc, with a sly smile.

Marty back stepped away from the locomotive, watching it with more than mild curiosity, wondering what the Doc had up his sleeve now. He had only gone a few steps when he froze, staring in awe as the locomotive began to shimmer like ripples of water, quickly vanishing from sight.

"Whoa," said Marty, now looking to the other side of the stadium.

Doc's head appeared out of the emptiness, floating in midair, and smiled wildly at Marty, wiggling his eyebrows. If there was anything that the Doc loved nearly as much as his family, it was the chance to show off techno marvels to the uninitiated.

"That is so cool, Doc," exclaimed Marty. "How far into the future did you have to go to get that?"

"Actually," started the Doc, more of him appearing as he exited the locomotive, "it's an invention of my own. Oh, it's made up of various components from different eras, but no one has put them together like I have."

"Way to go, Doc," complimented Marty.

"Now, it's exactly twelve-twenty-one A.M.. Biff arrives at his shop every morning at eight-thirty, which gives us just over eight hours to secure a mode of transportation, arrive at Biff's garage, break in, gather up the parts of the DeLorean, and return here with them."

"Secure a mode of transportation? Doc, this is Hill Valley, we don't even have a car rental place."

"Don't worry, Marty, I know someone that we can borrow a truck from."

"Oh, yeah? Who?"

"You," said the Doc, once again looking as if he had just made some fantastic revelation.

Biff awoke with a start, wondering how long he had been sleeping, and if Doc Brown and Marty were still in the train. He had blacked out shortly after they had landed, the soft thud of the locomotive settling on the ground seeming to shake him to his very core, and he was beginning to wonder if there was something seriously wrong with him.

Lighting up his watch to see what time it was, Biff gaped at the Timex as he saw the hour hand spinning forward, the minute hand twirling backwards, and the second hand moving so fast that he couldn't tell what direction it was going.

Something was seriously wrong, alright, but not just with him.

Panicking, thinking that Doc Brown had done something to totally mess him up, Biff threw open the compartment door and rolled out into the open air, hitting the ground with a thud.

"What the hell?" muttered Biff, turning onto his back and looking up to see no locomotive, though he had just rolled out of it.

Rising up on shaky legs, Biff gingerly reached out and yelped in surprise has his hand contacted with something that he could not see.

"You crafty, old bugger," said Biff, banging on the invisible side of the locomotive.

Feeling his way along the side of the engine, Biff found the entrance, after nearly stumbling over it, and he slowly climbed into the cab. He was thrilled to find that he could 'see' the interior, all of it visible as he entered, and he went about carefully checking the various compartments to make sure that Doc and Marty were truly gone.

Satisfied that he was on his own, Biff finally looked around at the surrounding area, and he immediately recognized it as the High School Stadium. Biff had spent many a night here, watching his son kick ass in football (just like his Old Man), and he was certain that he knew where Doc Brown and Marty had gone.

"You ain't taking it from me, Old Man," swore Biff, climbing back out of the engine. "You ain't the only one that can mess around with time."

Heading off across the football field, intent on finding a pay phone and calling for some back up, Biff hesitated for a moment as he suddenly felt dizzy. His vision went dark for a second, and he thought that he was going to pass out again, but everything quickly came back into focus, and the dizziness passed.

Shaking his head, Biff continued on, unaware that in that moment that everything had gone black, that he had vanished--his body momentarily out of sync with the natural flow of time.

A time that was becoming more fragile by the minute.

**__**

To Be Continued…


	5. Timeless Enemies

**__**

Back To The Past

Part Five: Timeless Enemies

Biff stumbled as his vision blurred, nearly toppling to the sidewalk, but he managed to catch himself on a street sign. He was sweating like mad, struggling for each breath, and knew that it was all Doc Brown's fault. He had to find help, now before it was too late, and he was determined to do so.

Gathering himself up, Biff let go of the street sign and took a step forward, his legs immediately going weak. Blackness overwhelming his senses, Biff dropped to the sidewalk with a thud, just as a police cruiser rounded the street corner.

Awareness wavered for Biff, brief flashes of images and snippets of sound the only sensory input pummeling through his fever. The world seemed bathed in alternating hues of red and blue, and he thought that someone was talking to him, though he couldn't swear to that.

"He's not responding," said Officer Thompson, unable to get an answer from Biff. "I think he's three sheets to the wind."

"Is…is that Tannin?" wondered Officer Lee.

"More like his grandfather," replied Thompson, struggling to lift the nearly unconscious Biff. "Must run in the family. Biff's always like this by the end of the night, too."

"Take him down to the station, let him sleep it off?"

"Na, let's give the old coot a break. We'll take him over and drop him off on Tannen's porch. Let the family deal with it."

Lee shrugged in indifference, then helped her partner gather Tannen up from the sidewalk. They struggled him into the back of the cruiser then climbed into the front, waiting for a black, 4X4 Toyota to pass before they did a u-turn to head for the Tannen residence.

"It's been a long time since I drove this thing, Doc," said Marty, guiding the 4X4 through the streets of Hill Valley. "But I don't ever remember you asking me to borrow it."

"Of course you don't, Marty. That's because we come from a time-line in which I didn't borrow it. Eventually, as time settles, you will remember it."

Marty shook his head, saying "this is getting pretty wild, Doc. I mean, how come we were able to come back here to stop Biff? What about alternate time-lines, and all that?"

"I've discovered many things in the past year, Marty. Time isn't quite as fragile as I had first thought it to be. This point exists, how ever tenaciously, because it has to."

"Say that again, Doc," said Marty, casting a nervous glance in his rearview mirror to watch a police cruiser make a u-turn.

"This is the nexus to the altering of the time-line. Think about it. If I failed to build the time machine, then the events that led up to Biff discovering it never would have happened. Ergo, he wouldn't have been able to go back and change things. If he didn't go back, then I build the time machine, and he learns of it."

"Is this one of those time-warps you were always talking about, Doc?"

"Loop, Marty. Time loop. And yes, it is. This is the moment that we have to put back right."

"I hope you know what we're doing, Doc."

"Trust me, Marty. It'll be as simple as splitting an atom. We simply retrieve the pieces of the time machine from Biff's garage, and everything will be right back on track. Biff will be left with nothing more than a mystery."

"Biff!" screamed an aged, female voice. "Where ya going, Biff?"

"To the bar, Mom," yelled Biff as he slammed the side door of the house.

Tugging on his jacket, Biff turned towards the garage and froze, the bright wash of headlights suddenly filling the driveway. Turning around, shielding his eyes, Biff glared at the police cruiser that had pulled up beside the house.

"Now what?" he muttered, shuffling towards the cruiser.

"Hey, Biff," greeted Officer Thompson, as he got out of the car.

"What's up, Lou," said Biff, nodding. "Problem?"

"We got someone who belongs to you," said Thompson, stepping around to help Lee maneuver the "other" Biff out of the cruiser.

"Hey, if Lois had you bring Junior over here…" started Biff, thinking that his ex-wife had had her cousin, officer Thompson, bring his son over so that she could go out.

"Relax, Tannen," growled Thompson, kicking himself for trying to do a favor for a Tannen in the first place. "We found your grandfather down town, drunk as a skunk."

"Grand Pa?" wondered Biff, halting next to the front of the cruiser. "My Grand Pa's been…"

**_Holy Shit!_ **thought Biff, a chill running through him as he saw the old man that the two officers pulled out of the rear of the cruiser. Though not quite as old as the last time he had seen him, Biff swore that it was the same man that had visited him thirty years ago.

"Thanks, Thompson," growled Biff, hurriedly, taking the old man from them and shuffling up the drive. "I'll take care of him."

"Try keeping him off the bottle while he's visiting," said Thompson, walking back around to the driver's side.

"Visiting?" asked Biff, looking back at the two officers.

"Or is he living with you now?" asked Thompson. Seeing Biff's puzzled look, he elaborated with "never saw him around here before. Figured he must be in town for a visit."

"Oh, yeah, right," threw out Biff, wishing the cops would just leave. "Don't worry, he probably won't be here for long."

As soon as the cruiser backed out of the drive, Biff made a bee-line for the garage, dragging the old man along as best he could. Supporting the old man with one hand, Biff lowered the tailgate on his truck with the other, then sat/laid the old man down there.

"Who are you, old man?" asked Biff, softly, staring at the guy.

Things were getting weirder than Biff would have ever thought possible. Ever since yesterday morning, when he had seen the flying DeLorean, Biff had been thinking of things that he hadn't thought of in over thirty years.

Thirty years ago, he had had no clue what it was he had seen, flying in the night sky, carrying away that Calvin Klein kid. The same kid that had stolen away his chance at having a rich life.

Then, this morning, while waiting for a train to clear the tracks, Biff had seen it again. Oh, it wasn't flying, and it was riding the rail instead of tires, but it was the same DeLorean alright.

And McFly had been driving it.

Biff wasn't sure why, but something about George's kid was bugging the hell out of him, and he was determined to find out what. If that DeLorean was indeed the same one from thirty years ago--from long before anyone had even thought the car up--then it could only mean one thing.

Time travel.

Even Biff's simple thought process had been able to put the pieces of that puzzle together--given all of the clues over the years.

The DeLorean was the key to it all, Biff was certain of that, and he was going to be damned if he'd let it slip through his fingers. He had spent the entire afternoon, and a good part of the evening, gathering up every last piece of the destroyed car, and he was confident that he'd be able to put it back together.

It might take a while, but he'd get it done.

"Not…not right," muttered the old man, snapping Biff out of his ponderings.

"You got that right, old man," quipped Biff. "Who the hell are you?"

"I'm…I'm you," rasped the old man. "From the future."

"It works," beamed Biff, proud of something he had yet to do. "I did it. I get it put back together."

"They're here to stop you," said the old Biff, struggling to set up.

"They who?" asked young Biff, not helping his older self in the least.

"Doc Brown, and Marty McFly. They came back from the future to stop you," said old Biff, vanishing then reappearing.

"What the hell?" yelled Biff, nearly leaping back from the old man.

"Calm down," growled old Biff.

"You just…just…"

"Just told you what they're going to do," snapped old Biff, once again winking out of, and back into, existence.

"No, idiot," said young Biff. "You just disappeared!"

"I don't remember being this stupid," quipped old Biff. "What in the hell are you…"

Old Biff doubled over as his body was racked with pain, his face contorted in agony, and he again popped out and in of being. His grip on things was fading fast, and he could only hope that his past self would be able to set things right--right Tannen style.

"What the hell's going on?" demanded Biff. "What's happening to you?"

"You have…" he was gone. Then back, saying "…them. It's their…" gone. Then back, "…id this to me. To us."

Biff was thrown backwards out of the garage as his older self suddenly vanished in a brilliant flash of blue, three quick booms echoing loudly through the night air.

Rising up on an elbow, Biff gaped at the empty spot on his tailgate, where seconds ago he had been talking to his future self.

"The DeLorean!" cried Biff, realizing what his other self had been trying to tell him.

Scrambling up from the ground, Biff burst into the house and, ignoring the questioning yells of his mother, grabbed up the phone and punched in the number of his closest friend.

"Needles? This is Biff, get your dad for me. Now."

**_Steal my future will they?_** thought Biff as he waited for Match to come to the phone. **_Not again, damn it._**

"Yeah," came a somewhat groggy voice.

"Match. Biff. Get the guys together, we've got some work to do."

"Damn it, Biff," grumbled Matt Etcher, still called "Match" by his high school buddies from thirty years past. "Jill gets pissed when you call me up this late for cards."

"This ain't about cards, butt head. This is about our future."

**__**

To Be Continued…


	6. A Little B&E, A Little Surprise, Big Tro...

**__**

Back To The Past

Part Six: A Little B&E, A Little Surprise, Big Trouble

"This is Biff's garage?" admonished Marty, gaping at the rundown, two-door brick building that had to be a hold over from the sixties.

"Not much to look at, is it?" noted Doc Brown. "But then again, neither was my lab. Come on, Marty, we have to hurry."

Climbing out of the 4X4, the two made their way over to the ramshackle garage, Marty nervously scanning the area for any indication that someone was watching them. Doc Brown was focused solely on the task before them, studying the building as they approached, looking for any alarms.

"I don't get it, Doc," said Marty, still keeping watch as Doc Brown began examining the entrance door. "I thought Biff was doing pretty good with his business."

"He's good at what he does, Marty, but it's his personality. Eventually, Biff manages to upset just about everyone."

"Oh," was all Marty could think of saying, feeling a brief flash of pity for the man that had caused so much trouble in his, and his parents', lives.

"Well, it would seem that there's no alarm system in place," noted Doc, standing and looking to Marty. "Hand me one of those bricks from over there, would you?"

Marty trotted over to a pile of refuse by the corner of the garage, selected one of the many bricks laying about, and handed it over to the Doc.

"Wait a minute, Doc," exclaimed Marty, halting Doc Brown from throwing the brick through the glass of the door.

"What, Marty?"

"Did you check to see if it was open?"

Doc Brown looked at Marty with a quizzical expression of disbelief.

Sighing, Marty stepped over to the door, grabbed a hold of the knob, and turned. He tried it a couple of more times before he finally turned around and, smiling sheepishly, shrugged his shoulders.

"Marty, please," chastised the Doc. "Do you think that we're in some low budget comedy? Now, stand back."

To Marty, the sound of the breaking glass was like a clap of thunder, and he was sure that people would come rushing out to see what the noise had been. He glanced around at the nearest houses, all of them with their backs to the alley that the garage was at the end of, and saw not the least indication that anyone had noticed the noise.

"Come on, Marty," called the Doc, slipping into the darkness of the interior of the garage.

The door gave entrance to a small reception area, where Biff could wait on the occasional customer, filled only with a sales counter, a couple of cheap, plastic chairs, and coffee maker that looked like it churned out something resembling oil rather than coffee.

Another door was behind the sales counter, leading to the garage proper, and Doc Brown was already moving through it. Jogging around the counter, Marty chased after the Doc, coming to a sudden stop as light blossomed through out the garage.

"Close the door, Marty. Close the door," instructed Doc Brown to the squinting Marty. "The windows are painted over, so no one should suspect we're in here."

"Whoa," said Marty, turning around to take in the garage, after closing the door.

The garage was big enough to hold six cars, three deep and two side by side, and nearly all of that space was covered with the pieces of the smashed DeLorean. Biff had pushed all of his supplies and equipment up against the walls to make room for the pieces, laying them out as best he could to line up with each other in proper order.

It looked like a DeLorean jig-saw puzzle.

"No wonder it took him eighteen years to put it back together," said Marty, following the Doc as he began looking over the pieces.

"I don't imagine that it was the car that took him so long, Marty," said Doc Brown. "It was the flux capacitor that gave him all of the trouble. That, and the hover system."

Doc Brown squatted down and picked up ruined metal and glass box that was the flux capacitor, looking at it with pride and remorse. He had been tempted to travel through time to tell his younger self to never build it, but then where would that leave Clara and the boys?

"Do you want me to back the truck up to the door, Doc?" asked Marty.

"No, Marty, I don't think that'll be necessary."

"What do you mean, Doc?"

"In my haste to set things right, I over thought a few things. We don't need to recover the DeLorean, just the pieces of the flux capacitor, and the future modifications that I made to the car."

"That does make things easier," agreed Marty.

"Here," said Doc, handing Marty the flux capacitor. "You take this, and start gathering up the pieces of the Mister Fusion, since you know what they look like. I'll start retrieving the pieces of the hover-conversion system."

"The hover system got fried, Doc. Why bother with it?"

"Because the components are still there, and it's possible, however unlikely, that they could be reverse-engineered."

"Right, Doc," conceded Marty, turning to carry out his task.

Grabbing up a cardboard box and dumping out the rags that it contained, Marty began tossing pieces into it, snatching up anything that he thought might be a part of the Mister Fusion.

"What's truly amazing," said the Doc, speaking as they picked through the pieces of the DeLorean, "is that time can be so pliable, and yet so rigid. This time-line should have been changed, but since it's the focal point of the change, we are still able to travel here and rectify the changes that would be made."

"Yeah, it's pretty amazing, Doc," agreed Marty, though he really wasn't following what the Doc was saying. Thinking too much about time travel and causality tended to give him a headache.

"I wonder," said the Doc, suddenly standing and placing his fists on his hips, his face a mask of pondering. "If we left this time and returned…would it still be this time-line or would it change?"

"Do we really need to find out, Doc?" asked Marty. "Is it worth the risk?"

"No, of course not," dismissed the Doc, shaking his head. "Not with such grave consequences on the line. But a controlled experiment, with some minor change…"

"Later, Doc, later," said Marty, picking up his already full box. "I'm going to take this load out to the truck."

"Okay," said the Doc, returning to gathering up the futuristic pieces.

Marty stepped into the reception area and around the sales counter, cursing as lights suddenly lit up the front of the building. Darting to the front door, Marty swore again as he saw two vehicles rapidly approaching, the one in the lead definitely Biff's little yellow pick up.

"Doc, we've got company," yelled Marty, running back into the garage and locking the door behind him. "Biff, and he's got some friends!"

"Come on, Marty," instructed the Doc, heading for a door at the rear of the garage. "We've got enough of the pieces that he'll never be able to put together a working time machine."

Doc pulled open the door and screamed, their exit blocked by someone he had never expected to see.

Biff stood outside the rear entrance of the garage.

Young Biff.

1955 Biff.

**__**

To Be Continued…


	7. A Timely Escape?

**__**

Back To The Past

Part Seven: A Timely Escape?

"I just knew you'd try to pull something like this, old man," growled the eighteen year old Biff as he muscled his way into the garage. "As soon as the old me from the future explained everything, I decided to head right here."

"You're messing with forces beyond your understanding, Biff," warned Doc Brown, reluctantly backing up. "You're risking the stability of the very space-time continuum."

"You," exclaimed the present Biff, gaping at his younger self.

"Hey, chill out, Old Me," laughed young Biff. "I've been gypped out of a rich future by these two already, and I'm going to make sure it doesn't happen a second time."

"Wait a minute," muttered present Biff, his eyes darting about as long forgotten memories began surfacing. His gaze finally settled on Marty, a sneer forming on his lips as he studied the man. "Yeah, it all makes sense now. That was you, back in fifty-five!"

"Uh, actually, that was me, about eighteen years ago," offered Marty, sheepishly.

"It doesn't matter!" screamed young Biff. "What matters now is that you two aren't going to screw me out of what I deserve again."

"What you deserve? What you deserve!?!" demanded Marty, growing angry with Biff. "What makes you think you deserve anything? You're suppose to make your future, not steal it!"

"You're no better than your grandfather was, Tannen," snarled the Doc. "The only difference is that you don't use a gun."

"That can change, Old Man," threatened young Biff.

The present day Biff, the nineteen-eighty-five Biff, was certainly a grouchy pain in the ass, but he wasn't nearly as aggressive as he had been forty-seven years ago, and dealing with the nineteen-fifty-five Biff yet again was wearing rather thin on Marty's nerves.

"After every thing that you've been through, you still haven't learned squat, have you Biff?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" asked both Biff's.

"The reason your life sucks is because you make it that way. Why don't you try being nice for a change, huh? Helping someone just for the sake of helping them? Quit trying to bully your way to get what you want."

The two Biffs looked at each other for a long second then burst out laughing, quickly joined by Match, 3D, and Skinhead.

**_The hell with this,_** thought Marty, fishing one of the silver "time bombs" out of his pocket.

Marty tossed the small sphere to the ground, ready have his own laugh at how things would change but, to his shock, the sphere simply bounced once and rolled towards young Biff.

"You need to throw it a little harder than that," whispered Doc Brown, grimacing as he spoke.

"What are you trying to pull, McFly?" demanded young Biff, grabbing a hold of Marty's arm as he was trying to pull out the second sphere.

Biff grabbed the second sphere from Marty then shoved him back, examining the silver orb as Match and 3D grabbed a hold of Marty. Biff picked up the sphere from the floor and rolled the two of them around in his palm, looking them over suspiciously.

"Be careful with those," snapped the elder Biff. "Those two are sneaky."

"No duh, Old Me," retorted Biff. "What are these, McFly? You trying to pull something?"

"They're, uh, good luck charms," said Marty.

"Looks like they're broken," smarted Biff, smiling wickedly.

"Maybe the dork used them all up," snorted Match, enticing chuckles from his two friends.

The laughter died off as the revving of an engine suddenly roared from outside of the garage, Biff, Biff, and the others exchanging looks of confusion.

"See who in the hell that is," ordered Biff, pointing at 3D.

3D had no sooner turned around and the garage door crashed in, the multiple lights of the 4X4 nearly blinding them all as it barreled into the garage.

As everyone leapt for cover, thinking that the 4X4 wasn't going to stop, Marty shouldered young Biff aside, grabbing one of the Time Bombs from him as he did so.

"Give me that ba…" started yelling Biff, suddenly freezing in place as Marty slammed the sphere against the concrete floor.

"Outstanding," exclaimed Doc Brown, looking around at everyone that was frozen in time.

3D and Skinhead were in mid-air, leaping out of the way of the 4X4. Present day Biff was falling backwards into a large tub filled with oil marked for recycling. Match was paused in mid-stumble, tripping over his own feet as he was trying to flee the black truck. Young Biff was perfectly still, his face a solid mask of anger as he had been yelling at Marty.

"This is so cool, Doc," said Marty, waving a hand in front of Biff's face.

"We haven't much time, Marty," said the Doc. "We have to make our exit, and quickly. Put the boxes in the back of the truck, we'll head directly for the train."

"Wait a minute, Doc," said Marty, walking towards the 4X4. "Who's…in…the…oh, wow."

Doc Brown squinted to try and see who was driving the truck, gasping as he recognized the driver.

"Great Scott," he exclaimed, darting over to the truck. "It's you!"

"What am I doing here, Doc?"

"Helping me," replied Doc Brown, looking at Marty with a quizzical expression.

"Not me me, Doc. Younger me!"

Doc Brown peered past the truck, through the ruined garage doors, and to the outside. Parked to one side was a shiny BMW, and the Doc immediately knew what nineteen-eighty-five Marty had done.

"You followed us," said Doc Brown, turning to face Marty.

"This is turning into a real mess, Doc," said Marty, looking at his younger self, setting frozen behind the wheel of the 4X4. "What are we going to do?"

"What we came back to the past to do, Marty. Start loading the boxes in the back of the truck. We've got to get the important pieces out of here, and we'll take you with us."

"Can we say him, Doc? Me, you, this is getting confusing."

3D and Skinhead briefly moved a few inches, the affects of the Time Bomb beginning to wear off, and Doc and Marty exchanged looks of concern.

"Curses," muttered Doc, fishing around through his many pockets. "I have more, give me a moment to find one."

Marty darted over to Young Biff, grabbed the second sphere from his hand as time began to resume once again, and then slammed it on the ground just as Young Biff started to reach for him.

Time froze once more, giving the two men a few more minutes of freedom.

"Hurry, Marty, hurry," instructed the Doc, sliding the frozen, younger Marty over so that he could take the wheel.

Less than two minutes later, Doc Brown was backing the 4X4 out of the garage, ready to floor it as soon as he maneuvered around for a straight shot down the alley.

"I used the sleep inducer on your younger-self, Marty," explained the Doc, squinting at the road as he sped down the alley. "After this is all over, I'll come back and explain everything to you, er, him."

"Thanks, Doc," said Marty, hanging on nervously. "I think I'll appreciate that."

"Twenty more minutes, and this will all be over with," assured the Doc, taking the turn onto the main road at about forty miles per hour.

"What about Biff from fifty-five, Doc? And the DeLorean?"

"Not to worry, Marty. Remember how the time-lines changed before? That's exactly what will happen once we depart with the pieces of the DeLorean."

"Uh, yeah, right," said Marty, lost.

"If Biff is unable to rebuild the DeLorean, then he can't go back in time and give it to his younger self. Hence, young Biff will never have it to come to this time, and everything will return to how it was."

"Right, got 'cha," agreed Marty, nodding in understanding.

"My family will be returned to me, and all will be right with the time-space continuum once again. Theoretically, the changes should be taking affect right now."

"There might be a snag with that, Doc," said Marty, his voice sounding a bit edgy. "Biff could still get his hands on the parts."

"What makes you think that?"

"Biff's following us," answered Marty, turning from gazing in the side mirror to gaping through the rear window. "In the DeLorean."

**__**

To Be Continued…


	8. Chasing The Future

**__**

Back To The Past

Part Eight: Chasing The Future

"This is turning into a quite a predicament, Marty," said the Doc, flooring the 4x4. "I hadn't counted on young Biff showing up to insure his future."

"We've got more problems that young Biff, Doc," said Marty, spotting old Biff's yellow pick-up joining the pursuit. "Old Biff's in on it now."

"We have to do something, Marty," exclaimed the Doc. "The school stadium's on the other side of town. Even if we get there first, we won't have enough time to load everything onto the locomotive."

"Do you got any more Time Bombs, Doc?"

Doc Brown looked at Marty with an expression of complete disdain, as if he couldn't fathom the concept of what Marty had just said.

"What?"

"You really should have paid more attention in school, Marty," chastised Doc Brown. "We would be the only thing not affected by the Time Bomb. Do you really want to find out what would happen when the truck froze in time but we continued moving at fifty miles per hour?"

"Oh, yeah. Bad idea."

"Our only chance is to try and lose them," growled the Doc, hunkering down over the wheel and concentrating on the road. "Hold on!"

Horns blared as Doc cut the 4x4 across the oncoming lane, barely avoiding being struck by a Ford Pinto, other vehicles slamming on their brakes to avert a pile-up. Unfortunately, the driver of the Pinto came to a complete stop, allowing the DeLorean and the pick-up to copy Doc's maneuver, both vehicles staying right on his tail.

"No good, Doc. They're still with us," said Marty, looking through the rear window at their pursuers.

"I'm not done with them yet, Marty. I didn't spend all those summers running contraband for uncle Otto and not learn a trick or two."

"Contraband?" asked Marty.

"Moonshine," answered the Doc. "Uncle Otto supplied liquor to the six surrounding counties. That's how I learned to drive."

"Great, Doc," said Marty, shaking his head in disbelief.

"I use to give Sheriff Strickland quite the run for his money, if I do say so myself," boasted the Doc.

"Sheriff Strickland?" admonished Marty. Then, thinking the matter over, he thought **_why not? From Marshall to Sheriff to Principal. The Stricklands sure do have something for discipline._**

"He used to chase me for miles," continued the Doc. "Even into other counties. Never caught me, though. Of course, it has been a while since I've had to drive like that, and I was only twelve at the time."

"Twelve? Doc, how old are you?"

"Oh, it wasn't that long ago, Marty," answered the Doc, whipping the 4x4 down a side street, then taking another sharp turn. "It was after prohibition, but Uncle Otto had a popular formula. That's where our family fortune started. He sold the recipe to some German investor."

"Can we talk history later, Doc? They're gaining."

"Let's see what this truck can do," yelled the Doc, sounding like he was having the time of his life.

Marty grabbed hold of the dash as Doc floored the truck, the tires squealing as he made a sharp left that put them up on the curb and aiming for a small passage between two houses. Marty squeezed his eyes shut and screamed as the 4x4 roared between the two structures, his mind telling him that there was no way that the big truck could make it.

"Ye-ha!" yelled the Doc as the 4x4 hit a small rise and bounced into the air, landing fully in the back yards of the houses.

Pressing hard against the door as the Doc did a 380 in the yard, Marty opened his eyes and caught a glimpse of the DeLorean veering around the fronts of the houses. Old Biff had no problem with following after the 4x4 in his little yellow pick-up though, and he came flying between the houses after them.

Doc Brown straightened out the 4x4 and took off across the back yards, heading in the opposite direction that the DeLorean had gone. Marty twisted around to watch for pursuit and let out a whoop as he saw the yellow pick-up hit the same rise that they had, the truck landing so hard that Match, Skinhead, and 3D were thrown out of the back of it.

Either Biff hadn't noticed that his friends had been thrown from the bed of the truck or he didn't care, he simply spun the vehicle around so that he could follow them, the tiny truck bouncing madly on the terrain.

"I think we lost young Biff," said Marty, turning back around, "but Old Biff is still behind us!"

"Not to worry, Marty. Do you know where we are?"

"Uh, no, not really, Doc. It's been a while since I've been in this neighborhood, you know."

"Good. Then you'll be surprised, too," said the Doc, smiling slyly.

Marty was about to ask what the Doc was talking about when he saw the privacy fence looming up before them, illuminated by the 4x4's lights. Marty barely had time to scream as the truck smashed through the fence, roared across the back yard of another house, and then became air-born as it obliterated the fence on the other side of the yard.

"Doooooooooooooooooooooooc!" yelled Marty as the 4x4 leapt over a shallow creek.

Bouncing about wildly as the 4x4 came to a landing on the other side, Marty pulled himself up from the floorboard and swiftly looked through the back window to see Biff's truck go nose down into the creek.

"Ouch," said Marty, imagining Biff eating steering wheel. "He's going to feel that when he wakes up."

The barren land gave way to parking lot, and Marty realized that they were heading into the downtown district, close to where Doc's old place was. Sure enough, they wound up in the back lot of Burger King, roaring past the garage that was the Doc's residence.

"We're home free now, Marty!" yelled the Doc, whipping the 4x4 around to barrel down the drive-through lane.

"Holy shit," exclaimed Marty, bracing himself against the dashboard as Doc slammed on the brakes.

Their path was blocked by three cruisers of the Hill Valley police department, backed up by six officers standing behind the cars, their weapons drawn.

A few minutes later, both Doc and Marty were cuffed and setting in the back of a cruiser as a few of the officers tried reviving the **_sleeping_** younger Marty.

"Hey, Doc," said Marty, nodding towards the road.

Doc Brown twisted his head around to see young Biff going by in the DeLorean, laughing to himself as he saw that two had been arrested.

"Great Scott, Marty. We're in a jam now. Biff has family on the police force. He might be able to get his hands on the DeLorean parts before we can even get out of jail!"

"Perfect. Now what are we going to do?"

**__**

To Be Continued…


	9. A Change Of Plans

**__**

Back To The Past

Part Nine: A Change Of Plans

"Perfect. Now what are we going to do?" wondered Marty, slumping forward so that his head tapped against the metal mesh that separated the rear of the cruiser from the front.

"Thompson!" barked a thick, gravely voice that moved rapidly along side the cruiser. "What the hell's going on here?"

Marty and Doc looked to the new arrival, grimacing as they recognized Chief Volmer stomping past them, his face nearly a fiery red as his hair.

"Reckless op, destruction of private property, and few other moving violations to begin with," answered Officer Thompson, meeting the Chief by the front of the cruiser. Nodding towards Doc and Marty, he continued with "and they had Marty McFly with them. He's unconscious, and we haven't been able to revive him, yet."

"Unconscious? So what, are they kidnappers?" demanded the Chief.

"We, uh, don't know, Sir. Lee's trying to contact the his parents right now."

"Have you read them their rights?"

"Uh, no, not yet, Sir. We were sort of waiting until we found out what Marty's involvement…"

"Pat 'em down, read them their rights, and get them locked up!" barked the Chief. "Christ, do I have to watch over the lot of you all the time?"

"Yes, Sir," stammered Thompson, quickly stepping around the Chief and opening the rear door of the cruiser.

Thompson helped Doc out of the back of the cruiser, then Marty, and began patting them down as the Chief stomped towards the Toyota, muttering under his breath about the incompetence of his officers.

After unlocking the handcuffs that had bound Doc's wrists, Thompson directed him to place his hands on the side of the cruiser and to spread his legs.

"This is degrading," rambled the Doc as Thompson began patting him down. Then, fixing Thompson with a wide-eyed gaze, he asked, "do I look like the type of man that would be involved in a kidnapping?"

Thompson paused for a moment, took in Doc's appearance; his wild hair; his large, gleaming eyes; his western attire. Holding his tongue, Thompson went back to patting down the Doc.

"I don't think you're helping things here, Doc," quipped Marty.

His hand smacking against one of the Doc's many side pockets, Thompson suddenly froze in his search.

Doc, wondering what could possibly be so interesting about his pocket that Officer Thompson was still checking it out, cast a sideways glance at the man.

Thompson was completely still.

Doing a double take at Thompson, Doc then looked wildly about the area, smiling broadly as he saw that all of the surrounding police officers were frozen in time.

"Marty."

"Yeah," replied Marty, leaning against the cruiser, his attention focused towards the street.

"Marty!" yelled the Doc, stepping out from under Thompson's frozen search and spinning Marty around.

"Doc! What are you…"

"He set off one of my Time Bombs, Marty," exclaimed Doc Brown, grabbing for the keys hanging on Thompson's belt. "We have to hurry, we only have a few minutes!"

Thompson's head seemed to spin as he suddenly pitched forward, the suspect that he had been patting down no longer in front of him, and he stopped himself from falling into the cruiser.

Looking about excitedly, Thompson started to run towards the other officers when he was jerked to a halt, his eyes staring in disbelief at the handcuffs binding his wrist to the handle of the cruiser's front door.

"Where are the suspects, Thompson?" slowly asked the Chief as he walked back towards the cruiser.

Thompson couldn't think of a thing to say.

Three blocks and five minutes (their time) later, Doc and Marty where hiding in the shadows of an alley, looking up and down the road for any sign of pursuit.

"Why didn't we grab the box of parts, Doc?" asked Marty, slumping against the side of the alley. "We could have ended this."

"We couldn't risk running out of time, Marty. That was my last Time Bomb, and we couldn't very well afford them becoming unfrozen as we were climbing out of the back of the truck. They would've added attempted escape to the charges!"

"But the pieces, Doc," groaned Marty.

"Not to worry, Marty. Not to worry. I've got a plan. We go back and get the locomotive, fly it to the impound yard, in stealth mode, and retrieve the pieces from the back of the truck before the police get around to storing it."

"Yeah, yeah," agreed Marty, nodding as he thought over the Doc's plan. "That sounds easy enough, Doc."

"We just have to do it before sunrise," added the Doc, stepping out of the alley.

Marty reached out, latched onto the Doc's collar, and pulled him back into the alley, asking "what do you mean 'we just have to do it before sunrise', Doc?"

"The light-infraction device only works with low level light sources," spewed Doc Brown. "Daylight will overpower its limited abilities, rendering it visible."

"Doc, the high school's on the other side of town," cried Marty, throwing his hands up in the air. "How are we going to get clear over there and fly the engine to the impound yard before sunrise? It's nearly five in the morning now. There's no way we can get there without a ride."

"Then maybe we should call for one," said the Doc, pointing towards a phone booth across the street.

"Call for one? Doc, I don't how often you take a cab around here, but I distinctly remember that they take their good old time."

"Who says we're calling a cab?"

"Oh, my, God, Marty! You look so…so…so old," admonished Jennifer, staring at the future version of her boyfriend.

"And you look so beautiful, Jenn," complimented Marty, taking her in with eyes wide. "Just as beautiful as when we got marr…"

"Eh, eh," loudly coughed the Doc, elbowing Marty slightly.

"And Doc. You look just like you did yesterday."

Doc smiled sheepishly, flexing his eyebrows, and rocking on his heels. He didn't know Jennifer nearly as well as he did Marty, but his young/old friend loved her, and that was good enough for him.

"What's going on?" asked Jennifer. "You know, it wasn't easy sneaking out and taking dad's car."

"Just get us to the high school, Jenn," said Marty, opening the door and sliding into the passenger seat. "I'll explain everything."

Doc fixed him with a warning glare.

"Well, everything that the Doc'll let me," corrected Marty.

**__**

To Be Concluded…


	10. Time's Up

**__**

Back To The Past

Part Ten: Time's Up

"I'm not budging an inch until you two tell me what's going on," threatened Jennifer, crossing her arms and taking up an imposing stance before the entrance to the Locomotive.

"For crying out loud, Jenn, we don't have time for this!" cried Marty.

"You have a time machine. You have plenty of time," she retorted. "You dragged me along the last time, then you knocked me out. I woke up in a strange house, with an older me, and you haven't even explained that yet!"

"Jennifer, please," pleaded Doc Brown. "You're risking our very future with this ploy. You have to let us board the train and stop Biff!"

"Biff? Biff Tannen? What's that creep got to do with all of this?" she demanded.

Sighing, Marty grabbed a hold of Doc and walked him a few steps away from Jennifer, just far enough to be out of earshot.

"Look, Doc, we're not going to win this one. When she gets that look in her eyes, she's determined to get her way and damn the consequences."

"Marty, we've been through this before. No one should know…"

"…too much about their future", Marty said with him. "Doc, if you hadn't known your future, then you'd be dead and buried back in eighteen-eighty-five."

"You have a point, Marty," admitted the Doc, grudgingly. "But this is an entirely different scenario. We're dealing with your past. If something should happen to Jennifer, it will alter your entire future. The life that you remember for the past seventeen years would be erased!"

"The life I remember has already been erased, Doc. That's why we're here! Come on, let's just tell her what's going on and get this over with."

"Very well, Marty. But remember, it was your choice," stressed the Doc, his voice grim and full of doom.

"Make any boyfriends, butthead?" asked young Biff, gloating as his 'older' self was released from jail.

Battered and bruised, Old Biff shook his head, grumbling, "I don't remember being that big of an asshole."

"Watch your mouth, Old Man. I posted your bail, but I can just as easily revoke it."

"What do you want?" demanded Old Biff, storming out of the police station, ignoring the disapproving looks of the few officers on duty.

"We have unsettled business. You screwed up tonight, and I'm here to make sure that you get those pieces back. Calvin Klein has screwed me out of a sure thing once already, and I…"

"McFly, you idiot," growled Old Biff, smacking his younger-self upside the head. "That kid is Marty McFly, not Calvin Klein."

"What the hell are you talking about?" shouted Young Biff, rubbing the side of his head.

"It took me thirty years to figure it out, but Marty McFly and Doc Brown went back in time, to nineteen-fifty-five. Calvin Klein is the kid of George McFly."

"That Irish bum?"

"That Irish bum knocked you out, if I remember correctly."

"Hey, I had been drinking!" protested Young Biff.

"He knocked you on your ass, then his kid stole the Sports Almanac from you. They ruined my life."

"It's my life too, Old Man. While in the hell do you think I came here? To make sure that things don't get screwed up again. Now, are you going to help me or do I go this alone?"

Old Biff mulled over things for a moment, his hatred for the McFly family growing stronger by the second. All of these years past and still he loved only Lorraine Baines, and George McFly had stolen her from him. Sure, there had been other woman since then but, in his heart, Lorraine was the only one he had ever truly loved.

He would do anything to win her, even change the past, if he could. And, just maybe, he could.

"If I help you, you have to promise me one thing."

"To get Lorraine Baines back, right?" asked Young Biff as he slid behind the wheel of the DeLorean. Then, smirking at Old Biff's astonishment, he added, "hey, I'm you. I want the same things you do. The only difference is that I intend to make it happen."

"Come on, let's get this over with then," snarled Old Biff, climbing into the DeLorean. "I want to have a good future for change."

"Wow," said Jennifer, looking out the side window of the Locomotive as Doc Brown maneuvered it over Hill Valley, heading for the police impound lot. "It looks so peaceful from up here."

"You should have seen the alternate eighty-five," commented Marty, flippantly.

"Alternate eighty-five?" wondered Jennifer, causing Marty to grimace.

"Just ask…me…about it," he said. "The me from now."

"Great Scott!" shouted the Doc, pointing towards their destination. "We're too late!"

Doc poured on the power, accelerating the Locomotive to its top speed as they watched the DeLorean rise from the police impound. The DeLorean swung about, hanging suspended for a moment as its driver spotted the Locomotive, then spun around and shot off.

"Hold on," warned the Doc, reaching for red button on the main control board. "I haven't had a chance to thoroughly test this yet."

"What is it, Doc?" asked Marty, helping Jennifer strap herself into one of the morphing chairs.

"The Flux-Accelerator!" yelled the Doc, maniacally.

"The Flux-what?" asked Mary, suddenly smashed against the rear wall of the cab as the engine blasted forward faster than he would have ever thought possible.

The ground became a patchwork blur of colors as the Locomotive rocketed after the DeLorean.

"Whoa," admonished Marty, finally able to peel himself from the wall. "Doc, this is incredible."

"Heavy, isn't it?" said the Doc, flashing Marty a quick smile.

"Hey, Doc," interrupted Jennifer, pointing towards the DeLorean. "The car's starting to glow!"

"Shit, Doc, we've got to stop them!" cried Marty.

"Already on it," countered the Doc, putting the Locomotive into a power dive that swept it across the path of the DeLorean.

Marty could have sworn he saw the eyes of both Biffs grow wide with panic as they found their route suddenly blocked, young Biff having to whip the car around, which in turn caused it to loose its built up speed.

"We can't keep this up forever," stated the Doc, banking the Locomotive around to line up his next interception run. "Eventually they'll get past us, and into the time stream."

"Doc!" yelled Marty, excitedly. "Have you still got the hover-board?"

Doc looked quizzical for a moment, and then shook his head in the negative. "No, I'm afraid not. I used several of its components when I built the Locomotive."

"Damn," cursed Marty.

"About the closest thing I have is Verne's Pitt Bull," informed Doc Brown, pointing towards a storage compartment at the side of the cab.

Marty pulled open the bin and yanked out the jet-powered hover-board, eyeing it over in appreciation. He thought briefly of his experience with the regular hover-board, and how much he would have loved to of hung onto it…back when he had still been young.

"Marty?" broached Jennifer, looking at him worriedly. "What are you thinking of doing?"

"Don't worry, Jenn," he reassured her, stepping over to the side hatch and flinging the doors open. "I can do this."

"Marty, it's way too dangerous!" lamented the Doc.

"It's our only chance, Doc," argued Marty, hanging on as Doc maneuvered the Locomotive to once again block the DeLorean from reaching eighty-eight.

Doc shot him a disbelieving look.

"Just get us over them," instructed Marty. "I'll drop down on the roof of the car, grab the parts from Biff--old Biff--and then drop from the car. The board'll slow me down enough that you can swing around under me and let me land on the train."

"Locomotive," corrected the Doc. "And the answer's no. It's insane!"

"Doc, at the worst, I'll drop the parts. They shatter and every thing goes back to normal, right? Time'll change around us, like it did with Jenn."

Everyone hung on as Doc once more whipped the Locomotive about in a tight turn that took it across the path of the DeLorean, both Biffs' mouths moving in unheard obscenities.

"Doc, we barely cut them off that time," said Marty. "You have to let me do this."

"Very well," after thinking about it for a frantic second.

"I can do this, Doc," affirmed Marty, looking the Doc right in the eye. "Trust me."

"I do, Marty," responded Doc Brown, a smile to his eyes that Marty hadn't seen in over thirty years. "I trust you with my very existence."

"Marty, be careful," said Jennifer, her face full of worry.

"Hey, don't fret," he told her. "We're going to have a long, happy time together, and I'm not ready to let it end."

"We're matching them, Marty!" called out the Doc as he brought the Locomotive directly over the DeLorean. "But they're speeding up for time displacement. It's now or never!"

With one final look to Jennifer, his eyes telling her everything that he did not have time to, Marty leapt out of the Locomotive, riding the Pitt Bull like an air-board, and screaming at the top of his lungs.

"Old Doc Brown screwed up this time," roared Young Biff, pushing the accelerator pedal to the floor. "They're not going to cut us off this time!"

"They're up to something, butthead," snapped Old Biff. "Just get us out of here before it's too late."

The DeLorean suddenly lurched slightly, a tremendous clanging sound echoing through the interior as something smashed against the roof of the car.

"They're ramming us!" screamed Young Biff, pitching the DeLorean into a dive.

"If they had rammed us then they would have torn through us like we were a piece of paper," lamented Old Biff. "They've got a freakin' Locomotive!"

"Well then, what the hell was that?"

"Me!" cried Marty, leaning in through the passenger window and grabbing the box of parts from the lap of Old Biff.

Both Biffs lunged to retrieve the box of parts from Marty, causing the DeLorean to twirl sideways, spilling Marty from the vehicle, the box still firmly in his grasp.

The DeLorean went into a wild, tumulus spin, Young Biff fighting to regain control of it.

Marty flipped himself about, achieving an upright position that once again put him riding the Pitt Bull, the board's jets and anti-grav units striving futilely to keep him air born.

"Butthead!" yelled Old Biff, slapping his younger self upside the head as he grabbed the wheel and righted the DeLorean.

Young Biff ignored his older self, thankful that the car had finally stopped spinning, and set his sights on the dwindling form of Marty.

"I've had it with this shit," cursed Young Biff. "I'm going to run that punk down if it's the last thing I do!"

Marty cast a fearful glance back at the gaining DeLorean, feeling an eerie sense of familiarity. Memories of the tunnel, with Biff chasing him as he rode the hover-board, flashed through his mind, he hoped that the Doc would be in time this time.

With the earth rushing up at him, and the DeLorean rapidly gaining on him, Marty was beginning to think that maybe this course of action hadn't been the best.

"We've got him," whooped Young Biff, excitedly. "We've got the son of a bitch this time!"

The Locomotive suddenly shot past the DeLorean, inciting a slew of curses from the two Biffs.

"Yeah, Doc!" yelled Marty as the Locomotive glided in under him, letting him land safely upon its roof.

"Doc says smash the parts!" yelled Jennifer, leaning out through the doorway of the cab. "Smash them!"

Marty took the Flux-capacitor from the cardboard box, looking at it with awe and regret.

Who would have ever thought that such an uninteresting looking piece of metal and plastic could cause so much trouble?

"Marty!" screamed Jennifer.

Marty looked up to see the DeLorean bearing down on him, Young Biff's face scrunched up in a look of sheer hatred.

The Flux-capacitor shattered into dozens of pieces as Marty slammed it against the roof of the Locomotive.

The world flashed blue.

Hill Valley, California

August 15th, 2002

1:30 PM

Marty stood at the railing of his deck, looking out over the gathering of his friends, wondering how Jennifer managed to find more people for these things every year.

"Hi, Uncle Marty," greeted a young boy, walking towards the deck, a large gift-wrapped package in his hands.

"Hey, Verne," smiled Marty, waving. "Where's your brother?"

"Right here," groaned Jules, stepping through the gate, looking none the too happy about being there.

Marty couldn't get over how the boys were only seven, even though seventeen years had passed since he had first met them. Just because a year had passed for Marty, didn't mean it had been that long for the Browns.

"It's not that hard coming to see me, now is it, Jules?" chided Marty, exaggerating a wounded sound.

"Naw, not really," conceded Jules, smiling a little. "But we were just at your last birthday yesterday."

Marty laughed at that, picking up the boy and hugging him.

"Marty," called the Doc, as he and Clara entered the backyard.

"Hey, Doc," smiled Marty. "Clara."

"Hello, Marty," greeted Clara, kissing him on the cheek.

"Hey, Doc," whispered Marty, pulling the Doc aside from the others. "I've got these…conflicting memories."

Doc smiled and patted Marty on the arm, knowing that the temporal shifts hadn't completely settled with the young man yet. With all of his constant traveling through time, Doc, and his family, had grown quite accustomed to it, but he sometimes forgot how disorienting it could be for others.

"Let's go set down and have a talk," said Doc, guiding Marty towards some lounge chairs.

**__**

END

A/N: Sorry, but don't nitpick about Marty's birthday. I don't have that little "fact" readily available, so I just picked a date.

Thanks to all of you that have read, enjoyed, AND reviewed this little fic.

Willum


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